'I married my husband because of what he does to my soul; not for what he does to my grammar.'
It is, in fact, a blog post, so here goes the lengthier version:
Sisay: "Your daughter is eating paper."
Sisay: "Disturbing." (my response, that is)
Me: "It's better than plastic."
Sisay: "What is wrong with you?"
Me: Laughing, which turns into belly laughing, which turns into hysterical laughing. I don't know, probably because this moment illustrates one out of hundreds each day in which a child of ours does something that I deem normal and/or praiseworthy and Sisay deems highly dangerous and/or requiring medical attention.
Sisay: "Why are you laughing? Your daughter is eating paper and you laugh. That by itself makes double wrong with you."
That's when I really lost it.